


Gentle Handjobs

by Chaozrael, RodiWrites



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, There is descriptions of injury but none too graphic, breaky is a big cute babe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 21:59:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13866843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaozrael/pseuds/Chaozrael, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RodiWrites/pseuds/RodiWrites
Summary: Lockdown loses an arm but gains a a very pretty doctor and a very cute nurse.





	Gentle Handjobs

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was created from a roleplay with the wonderful Chaozrael <3 Rewritted and beta'd by yours truely. Enjoy!

He didn't remember how he got here and he only had a vague idea of what happened. Lockdown stared at the blurry white ceiling. His head hurt, but honestly everything kind of hurt, but also not. It was just a weird feeling. As if something was fogging his mind. He knew it wasn't cocaine this time. That felt different.

It was a hospital, right? He did remember a hospital. Also he heard some beeping sound. Did... did they hook him up to one of those heart beat thingies? Was it that bad this time? It wouldn't be the first time he got stabbed or beaten up and woke up in the hospital.

Lockdown slowly turned his head. Maybe he could leave soon an- His eyes widened at the sight of his right arm, laying prone by his side on the rumpled bleach-white sheets. What? What kind if weird visual trick was this? Why had they bandaged his whole arm, and why did it look.. shorter? He attempted to move it and even through his morphine-soaked nervous system he could feel the stab of pain shoot through it. Nonono-

Lockdown quickly sat up and suppressed a pained scream. Oh shit. Oh no. This couldn't be. This wasn't right, it- it had to be fake, he was hallucinating, something! The beeping sound in the background started to get faster as he stared at his arm, panting, his mind rushing through the fog, sheets becoming twisted around his legs, ensnaring him and escalating his panic as he struggled to move, head whipping back and forth looking for an exit before it got him sickeningly dizzy.

Footsteps clicked in the hallway, dragging his attention to it. Slow and steady, muffled through the door. Not the hard, jarring taps of heels, but a lighter sound. And it was gradually getting louder.

\- - - -

Knockout was already on his way to check up on his most worrying patient when a nurse practically collided with him, muttering some vague apology before vanishing into a ward. Hissing through clenched teeth at the burning heat of his now-spilt coffee throbbing through his thigh, the doctor tried to focus back on whatever the hell she was saying. Moments later, he marched through the double doors of the small intensive care ward, hurrying across the room to try calm their - thankfully still drugged up and woozy - floundering patient. He’d known this would happen, he should have had someone watch him. He’d seen it before, the same look in his eyes, and his heart twinged with pity.

Poor sod.

“It would be best for you to lie down, sir...look, I know this is going to take a long time to get over, but I can’t help you if you don’t let me. You need to rest. Just...lie down, and we can get you more painkillers, alright?” Hopefully sedate him, too. He really didn’t have time for this. Breakdown was supposed to be on the floor any minute now, he always had patience where his snappy husband lacked it. He needed that big lug, these nurses were practically useless- “Hey! Don’t physically move him, we don’t want to yank out the IV!” Useless, _and_ dangerous to the patients. Terrific.

Lockdown quickly glanced up when he heard a strangers voice cutting through the murky, drugged confusion in his head. Probably a doctor, but that didn't really matter to him. He put his remaining arm around himself and gasped a silent _"stay away from me."_ His throat felt raspy and hoarse, as if he hadn't used his voice in a very long time. How long had he been here? At the moment he probably didn't look all too dangerous, and even if he couldn't see it under all the tattoos that were covering his skin, he knew he was bruised all over. He ached too much not to be. There was a good chance he could barely move. Oh, but now he was getting a heady shot adrenaline rushing through his head, clearing the fog as best it could, making him feel things he didn't want to feel and leaving him all too aware of his situation. Lockdown was still panicking, panting quickly and curling a bit into himself while still sitting in his bed, wide eyes and white face snapping from nurses to the door, then back to the nurses. At least they weren't trying to manhandle him now. What the hell happened?

Honestly, Knockout would just love to respect his patient’s request and let someone else, anyone else, deal with this, but he was his personal responsibility. He felt like he really ought to be th one treating him, regardless of how little he might want to. It was Breakdown who found him, after all. Lord knows what’d happened to him. He'd been even more of a wreck before, at least now he was as clean as they could get him, and not plastered in street muck.

“We’re just trying to help, okay? We can make it hurt less, please- I need you to cooperate here.” They could eliminate pain, yes…but they couldn’t bring his arm back. He wasn’t looking forward to the demands for an explanation, being blamed for not saving a mangled, crushed, hacked-off limb, or this man simply becoming unable to cope with it, refusing to accept reality. It happened. He couldn’t work miracles, he only looked godlike. They’d given him a through physical, and his arm wasn’t the only issue…cracked ribs, a fractured femur, countless lacerations… he almost didn’t _want_ to know what had happened. He laid a very gentle, careful hand on Lockdown’s shoulder, lowering his voice to an attempt at a softer tone. “Please. Lie back.”

Lockdown twitched surprised when he felt that hand on his shoulder. For a moment his mind had been too focused staring at that bandaged arm and he couldn't concentrate on too many things at once. It was as if he had a gap in his memories and the doctor had suddenly appeared next to him.

"W-what. No.", he pressed out, barely understandable. There wasn't even a growl or a little snarl left in him, he felt miserable and nauseous. Actually he felt ready to puke right now. On this guys hopefully not expensive shoes. And that was exactly what he did.


End file.
